


Solyanka

by Mareel



Series: Always [43]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Comfort Food, Cooking, Destroy Ending, F/M, Family, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Memorials, Memories, Post-Canon, Post-Mass Effect 3, Traditions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 10:26:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6980542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mareel/pseuds/Mareel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ambushed by memories</p>
            </blockquote>





	Solyanka

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Солянка](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13504803) by [fandom_MassEffect](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandom_MassEffect/pseuds/fandom_MassEffect), [Riru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riru/pseuds/Riru)



> Eleven months after the end of the Reaper war, Kaidan and John are at the Alenko family orchard in British Columbia to attend a memorial for his father (formerly MIA). It is Elena Alenko's voice. Solyanka is a Ukrainian pickle soup.

 

It's just soup. 

We'll have a house full of hungry people here for Michael's memorial and a hot bowl of soup should be welcome on an early November day. 

His sister Lea asked what she could bring. I didn't know what to tell her aside from something Michael would have liked. She specifically asked if she should make solyanka, but I told her I was going to do that. Lea's a good baker; maybe she'll bring a couple loaves of crusty bread or some cookies. 

Kaidan wants to make pies with the last of the late apples. He said he wants to teach John, since he always enjoys them so much when they visit. 

Anyway, I know there'll be plenty of food for all the family and friends. 

As I chop the vegetables for the soup, I can almost see Michael's Ukrainian mother teaching me how to make it. Passing on a treasured family recipe to her Singapore-born daughter-in-law. 

The first time I made it on my own, Michael smelled it the moment he came in from the orchard. Little Kaidan was watching from his high chair, banging spoons on the tray and calling to Dada. Michael wrapped an arm around my waist and dipped a spoon into the not-quite-done soup, tasting it eagerly. 

He kissed me, tasting of soup, and told me his mother would be proud. He didn't need to tell me that he was too. 

I stir the diced pickles and onions into the simmering broth. And wipe my eyes. It must be the onions. 

It's just soup.

_____________________________________________________

 


End file.
